The Fiancée Fiasco

Thomas had hoped to sound reassuring, but her expression made it clear he was doing a lousy job of it. She appeared a little alarmed, and no wonder given the way he was acting. Better just to get right to it, he decided, except that he didn’t. Rather, he went on in uncharacteristic bumbling fashion.

“It’s just that I find myself in a tight spot. I told someone—someone very dear to me—that I am … that is, that I have been seeing …” He laughed uncomfortably. “This is awkward.”

Across from him, Elizabeth smiled encouragingly, though he thought he saw her glance toward the exit.

“The long and the short of it is I need … I need a …” His gaze focused in on her mouth and he swore his own started to water. “I need a woman.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether to be flattered that he’d singled her out or concerned for her safety given his intense stare. One thing she knew for certain, she was curious. Why on earth did he need a woman? Surely female companionship was not in short supply for a man as successful and handsome as he was. There had to be a rational explanation for what he’d just said.

So, in her most polished business tone, she inquired politely, “Exactly what do you need a woman for, Mr. Waverly?”

“To act as my fiancée.”

He was exhaling in a gust, even as Elizabeth’s breathing stopped. She hadn’t seen this coming.

“Are you asking …? You want me to …? You want to get married?” Her voice rose on the last word. Some of the restaurant’s other patrons glanced their way.

“No. Actually, I just need someone to pose as my fiancée for a while.” He smiled weakly. “So, um, under the circumstances, I think you should call me Thomas.”

She rubbed her right temple in lieu of a response. She’d fallen into an alternative universe. That was the only explanation that made sense. She was wearing Mel’s dress and had somehow become, well, Mel. Except that in the big mirror on the wall behind Thomas, she could see her reflection. The dress was Mel’s, but Elizabeth was definitely the woman wearing it. And looking gobsmacked. She snapped her mouth closed.

“I know. Crazy, right?” Thomas said on an uncomfortable laugh.

“Certifiable,” she agreed.

Both of them were, because, Elizabeth now knew for sure that she was feeling flattered. Thomas Waverly, successful businessman and five-alarm hottie, wanted her to act as his fiancée? But …

“Why?” she managed to ask at last.

His expression sobered. “Before we get to that, I want to make it clear that I’m not expecting you to do me a favor. I was thinking more like, we could, uh, do each other a favor. You help me out by posing as my intended, and I personally match the donation I’ve already decided to make to Literacy Liaisons on Waverly Enterprises’s behalf. Between those two contributions, your endowment will be realized.”

Because her mouth threatened to fall open again, she took a sip of her water. This was more than she’d hoped for. It was everything she wanted, being handed to her on a silver platter. A silver platter held by one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. She checked the mirror a second time, giving that alternative universe theory another go. The same baffled- looking blonde as before gaped back at her. Again, Elizabeth asked, “Why?”

“Right.” He reached for his wine and took a sip. Setting the glass back on the table, he said, “Here’s the thing. I told my grandmother that I was involved in a serious relationship with a woman.”

“Serious as in headed toward the altar.”

“Right. The problem is I’m not, but she’s expecting to meet, um, my significant other …” He coughed. Choked? Before spitting out, “This weekend.”

The long holiday weekend was mere days away, and Elizabeth already had made plans to spend part of it with her parents at their annual soy burger-and-tofu barbecue, but that wasn’t what bothered her. Flattery only went so far. As did business dealings.

Her tone took on an edge that she rarely used and had never allowed to seep into her professional life when she said, “You lied to your grandmother?”

Hot or not, the man dropped several points in her estimation. Make that numerous points, and still counting. She didn’t care how handsome he was or how successful. Nor did it matter how desperate she was for his dual donation—and, God, she was desperate for that donation. But a man who would lie to a frail, helpless little old lady—and that was the image that came to Elizabeth’s mind—was a jerk. End of story. She retrieved the napkin from her lap and set it on the table, fully intending to leave.

Thomas rose part way from his chair as she stood. “Please. Stay and hear me out.”

“You lied to your grandmother,” she repeated flatly.

“Yes. I did. It sounds horrible, I know.” He dropped back into his seat.

“That’s one word for it,” Elizabeth replied crisply, unwilling to let him off the hook, no matter how appealing he looked wriggling from it. Still, he did look remorseful. Slowly, she returned to her seat and spread the napkin back over her lap. What would it hurt to hear him out?

“Let me give you a little background before you form a solid opinion of the situation.” Thomas held out his hands in appeal. “She claimed to be dying and, well, seeing me happily settled is a priority for her. I was hoping to take her mind off her aches and pains.”

“Your grandmother is dying?”

“Her doctor says no, but …” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “She’s sure she is. And she’s not easily dissuaded once her mind is made up. I hate seeing her so troubled, especially when there’s no need to be. I’m fine. Perfectly happy, in fact. I’m just not married and making great-grandbabies for her to spoil.”

“So you’re lying to her to protect her?”

“I don’t want to lie at all, but yes. If she thinks I’m heading toward ‘I do,’ then she’ll be able to enjoy her life again. She deserves that.”

“That’s … sweet.” And it was.

At least his unorthodox offer was rooted in something other than blatant self-interest. Still, what he was suggesting was crazy, but no more so than the fact that Elizabeth was actually considering it.

“Do you really think your grandmother would buy that you and I are …” She made a winding motion with her index finger, unable to speak the actual words. “I can’t believe I’m your usual type.”

She wasn’t angling for a compliment. She wasn’t expecting him to tell her that she was beautiful or even that he found her attractive. Expecting? No. But part of her must have been hoping, she realized, when her heart pinched painfully at his reply.

“You’re not my type in the least, which, in a way, makes you perfect. My grandmother knows the sort of women I prefer to date. Since I’ve never allowed something serious to begin with them, she assumes that’s because I’ve been dating women who are all wrong for me.”

“Have you been?” She immediately shook her head. “I’m sorry. That’s really none of my business.” Even if she was, at this very moment, considering becoming his bride-to-be, at least for appearances’ sake.

“Possibly. Probably.” He shrugged carelessly. “I’m not looking for a deep and committed relationship. That’s not what I’m after.”

Ah, one of those. Elizabeth had dated a couple such men just out of college, not that she’d known their preferences going in, of course. Nope. She’d found out the hard way and wound up with a dinged-up heart for her naiveté.

“Which reminds me,” Thomas was saying. “I never thought to ask if you were seeing someone.”

His complexion bleached a little as he awaited her reply. She wasn’t trying to exploit that with her hesitation. She just wanted to find a way to relay her single status without making herself sound like a loser.

“I date here and there,” she said at last. “But I’m not seeing anyone in particular.”

“Terrific.” He had the grace to grimace. “That came out wrong. What I mean is if you agreed to act as my fiancée, I wouldn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”

She appreciated that, but … “Excuse me for saying so, Mr…. er … Thomas. The situation is already awkward. I barely know you. We met only today. And you’re asking me to pose as your fiancée in an attempt to fool your elderly grandmother into believing you’ve found your soul mate.”

He grimaced again. “It sounds even worse when you say it. In my defense, there’s nothing for me to gain here. I’m doing this for the right reasons, even if I seem to be going about it the wrong way. I love my grandmother, Elizabeth. She’s pretty much all the family I have. She basically raised me.”

So many layers to the man, Elizabeth thought. She wanted him to be what he first appeared when he suggested the arrangement: shallow and callous. Then it would be much easier to tell him no, the sizable donations he was promising be damned. She had standards. She had principles. She also apparently had a soft spot for men who had soft spots for their aging grandmothers.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about her,” she suggested, folding her hands in her lap.

“Nana Jo?”

Nana Jo. Cute. He scored another point in his favor. Elizabeth smiled her encouragement.

“She’s a pistol.” His expression turned fond. “She has an opinion on everything and offers it freely, whether you want to hear it or not.”

“My mother’s that way, too.” Elizabeth had little doubt her expression was one hundred and eighty degrees from fond. She shook off all thoughts of Delphine. “And right now Nana Jo’s opinion is that you should be married.”

“Actually, that’s been her opinion since I graduated from college.” He shrugged.

“But you’re not marriage-minded. Commitment’s not your thing. You prefer to keep your options open and continue to play the field.” She paraphrased his earlier comment.

His frown came as a surprise. She got the feeling he wasn’t happy with her assessment, though he didn’t try to correct her.

“About a year ago, my grandmother started telling me she didn’t have long for this life and that the only way she could leave this world peacefully was to know I was settled and happy.”

“That’s because she loves you.”

“And I love her. I’d do anything for her. As I said, she raised me.”

Elizabeth tamped down the questions begging to be asked. Chief among them: Where were his parents when he was growing up? Was he, like Mel, the product of a broken home? She pitied him if that were true. Skeet and Delphine might not believe in the institution of marriage, so their exchange of vows was unrecognized by the state as legally binding, but they were committed to one another in their own way. As counterculture and plain old wacky as they could be, at least Elizabeth had the luxury of an intact family. Or she had until her brother decided to drop out of high school and then drop out of sight.

Thomas was saying, “I told her I was seeing someone special mostly to give her something positive to occupy her thoughts. It worked a little too well and spiraled out of control. From that simple statement she extrapolated my impending nuptials.”

“And you didn’t do anything to stop her?”

“I didn’t have the heart. It made her so happy. She went from telling me which outfit she wanted to be buried in to what she planned to wear to my wedding. A pink organdy gown, by the way. She sent me a magazine clipping of it, as well as suggestions for my tuxedo. Black tails. Very formal and timeless, in her opinion.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a bemused smile that tugged at Elizabeth’s heart. Oh, he’d dug himself a deep hole all right.

“Why not tell her the truth now? They say honesty is the best policy for a reason.”

“I’ve thought about it. Believe me. But I’m afraid Nana Jo will just go back to fretting over her health and my future, and dropping brochures for headstones in the mail to me.”

“But you actually don’t plan to get married to me or anyone,” she pointed out. “Eventually, your grandmother is going to figure that out.”

“I know.” He rubbed his chin. “Which is why I was thinking that, after a reasonable length of time, I would tell her that things between you and I had ended.”

“My doing, of course.”

He smiled guiltily. “She’d be upset. But I think she also would be a little relieved that I almost made it to the altar.”

“Commitment phobia cured?”

With one eye closed, he squinted at her with the other. “You don’t pull any punches,”

he said wryly. “I had you pegged as practical, but not quite so blunt.”

“That’s my professional persona,” she reminded him. “I can hardly afford to insult someone who is about to cut my agency a check.”

“Present company excluded, of course.”

“Your check—”

“Checks. One from my business. One from me.”

“Whether one check or two, they are coming with a lot of strings,” she reminded him.

“I want to make one thing clear. The check from Waverly Enterprises will be forthcoming regardless. I believe in your cause, and I respect what you’re doing.”

Slightly mollified, she said, “Thank you.”

“As for the other check, the one from me personally, yes, it does have strings as you called them. But I prefer to think of them as conditions, in which case they would serve to keep what would go on between us a business transaction as well, just with the funds coming from my personal bank account rather than my company’s.”

That made some sense, but … “I’m not saying I agree, but let’s discuss that business transaction. What exactly would it entail?”

“Some of your time, for starters. We would need to get up to speed on each other in short order. We’re supposed to have been dating for several months. Beyond knowing that you have a dog named Howie and started your nonprofit just after college graduation, I don’t know anything about you.”

“I could write up some notes.”

“Crib sheets, you mean?” His smile was engaging.

“I never had to resort to them myself.” She regretted the chiding comment when his lips flattened into a thin line.

“For the record, I’m not a fan of cheating, or lying, although I can understand where you might find that hard to believe right now. See, this is exactly the reason we need to spend time together before this weekend.”

“Assuming I agree.”

“Assuming that. Yes.”

“So, I would meet your grandmother and visit with her over the weekend?”

“That’s right. She’s incredibly easy to talk to and fun to be around. She plays a mean game of cribbage. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself,” he said.

“Assuming I agree to do this,” she repeated.

“Assuming.”

But they both seemed to know she was leaning in that direction.

“I won’t lie to her, Thomas.” This time, his given name slipped easily from Elizabeth’s lips. It was important they were clear on this point. She might be willing to bend her principles, but she would not break them. “For her to assume is one thing, but if she flat-out asks me a question that requires me to lie, I won’t do it.”

“This is assuming you agree.” He beat her to it this time.

“Let me make something else clear. The only reason I am even entertaining the possibility of doing this is because Literacy Liaisons means so much to me.”

“I know that.”

Of course he did. He was banking on it, she realized.

“So, is that a yes?”

She exhaled slowly, knowing her life was about to take a huge and unexpected turn. “Yes.”

Once Elizabeth agreed, the rest of dinner passed in a blur for Thomas. When it came time for the check, he didn’t remember eating, possibly because more than half of his steak remained untouched on his plate, as did the side of risotto and steamed vegetables.

He was relieved that she’d said yes, of course. Her agreement was what he’d hoped for. Still, he couldn’t quite shake his apprehension. Now, he had a fiancée—a woman who was also a stranger. He needed to remedy their unfamiliarity and fast.

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